Four Shots In
by WinterSky101
Summary: Phichit and Yuuri plus alcohol always equals bad decisions. Pre-series.


They're tipsy when it happens. Not enough that they're _drunk_, but enough that inhibitions are lowered. This is, of course, technically illegal for Phichit, since he's only seventeen, and barely legal for Yuuri, at just over twenty-one. At first, Yuuri tries to use this as an argument against their drinking, but Phichit counters that they _are_ in college, and he doesn't intend to _buy_ any alcohol, so it's okay. The logic is shaky at best, but after his first shot, Yuuri can't bring himself to really care anymore.

Two hours and three more shots later, Yuuri is a little more giggly than usual and a little more touchy. Phichit has only had three shots in all, but he's even more giggly than Yuuri. To be fair, he normally is, but the slight flush on his cheeks is new and almost definitely alcohol related. His propensity for hugging Yuuri is also not necessarily abnormal, but it's exaggerated with the help of the alcohol.

"You're so _pretty_," Phichit tells Yuuri emphatically, tracing his cheek with one hand. "Take off your stupid glasses, I want to see your eyes."

"I'm not _that_ attractive," Yuuri replies, his blush darkening with every word Phichit says.

"_Huuuuuuuush_," Phichit scolds. "You _are_ that attractive. Pretty Yuuri." He pulls Yuuri's glasses off and giggles. "You have such pretty eyes! And such pretty _hair_!"

The next thing Yuuri knows, Phichit's fingers are in his hair. "You're prettier than I am," Yuuri protests.

"We're _both_ pretty," Phichit declares. "Very pretty people. Very pretty couple." Phichit's eyes go wide. "Yuuri, we would make _such a pretty couple_!"

If he were sober, Yuuri would have argued that point, especially considering he's twenty-one to Phichit's seventeen. But he's just tipsy enough that it seems like a potentially viable option. "You think so?"

"I _know_ so," Phichit gushes. "Oh my God, Yuuri, we would be so pretty! Here, let's take a pretty selfie. We can ask Instagram if we would be a pretty couple!"

Yuuri, thankfully, isn't drunk enough to allow _that_. "No Instagram."

Phichit's lower lip wobbles. "No Instagram?"

"No asking Instagram if we should be a couple," Yuuri corrects.

Phichit frowns, clearly thinking hard. "But can I post the picture if I don't ask?"

"Sure."

Phichit beams. "Yay! My pretty Yuuri!" He puts his hands on Yuuri's cheeks and squishes his face, giggling. "You're so _cute_!"

Phichit babbles on about lighting and poses for a moment, then wraps an arm around Yuuri's shoulders and throws up a peace sign. "Smile, Yuuri!" he chirps, taking about a million pictures. That part isn't due to the alcohol, but instead due to Phichit's complete inability to only take one picture of whatever catches his fancy (which is normally himself).

"Hmm." Phichit swipes through all the pictures quickly, chooses one, filters it, then holds it up to Yuuri for inspection. "What do you think?"

Yuuri studies the picture. He's smiling, and he doesn't look _too_ horrible, but Phichit still looks better. Phichit looks better in every selfie they take, though, so Yuuri just nods and says, "Post it."

Phichit claps delightedly and pulls up Instagram. "'Partying hard,'" he says slowly as he types, "'with my boy #YuuriKatsuki.' I wish you had an Instagram so I could tag you in this stuff!"

"Who would care enough about me to follow me?" Yuuri counters.

Phichit raises an eyebrow. "Um, me. We should make you an Instagram, Yuuri!"

"You would follow me?" Yuuri asks, touched. The alcohol is making that seem like perhaps a bigger deal than it is.

"Of course I would!" Phichit cries. "I'd have to see the pictures of my pretty Yuuri."

Yuuri fumbles for his phone and finally pulls it out of his pocket, holding it out to Phichit. "Make me an Instagram, Phichit!"

Phichit's eyes go wide and his mouth opens in a little O. "Really?"

Yuuri nods fervently. "Really."

Phichit lets out a delighted squeal. "Yay, Yuuri! You'll love Instagram, I promise. I'll teach you how to take good selfies and choose good filters and everyone will love you so much cause you're so pretty!"

Yuuri isn't sure he agrees with that logic, but he sits quietly and allows Phichit to create an account for him, murmuring things to himself as he does. "So a public account, obviously, for your fans-"

"I don't have fans," Yuuri argues. "And what's a public account?"

"A public account means anyone can follow you and see your posts," Phichit explains. "There's also a private account, so you have to allow people to follow you before they can do it and see any of your posts."

"I want to do a private account," Yuuri says immediately. He may be drunk, but he's not _that_ drunk.

Phichit frowns. "But you'll let me follow you, right? And you should let your fans follow you. They're gonna want to. A lot of your fans follow me so they can see pictures of you!"

That sounds fake, but okay. "I don't really want people to see my posts."

Phichit's frown deepens. "I wanna argue with you about it but my thoughts are slippery."

"Slippery?"

"It started after the second drink, it's fine, I'll argue with you about this tomorrow." Phichit looks down at the phone with determination. "My thoughts aren't too slippery to make you an Instagram, though! Smile!"

Yuuri blinks in shock as Phichit snaps a picture of him. Phichit pouts. "_Smile_, Yuuri!"

Yuuri fumbles his way into a smile. Phichit makes a happy noise and takes the picture. "Profile pic!"

"Wait, no!" Yuuri scrambles for his phone. "No, I don't want that to be my profile pic! Make it a picture of Vicchan!"

Phichit nods sagely. "Ah, like Viktor's profile picture? I get you, I get you. Do you have any pictures of you with Vicchan?"

"Just give me my phone." Yuuri manages to grab his phone out of Phichit's hand and scroll through his pictures. He finds his favorite picture of Vicchan quickly and selects it. "This one."

"Aww, pretty puppy," Phichit coos. "Alright. Here you go. Your username is katsuki-yuuri, cause somehow no one took it. You can change if you wanna. The password is 'Phichit is my BFF.' BFF is in all caps."

Yuuri looks down reverently at his new Instagram account. "Wow."

"And you're following me and I'm following you," Phichit adds. "Look, see?"

The selfie that Phichit just posted is at the top of Yuuri's screen. "You should like it," Phichit informs him. "Tap it twice."

Yuuri does, and a little heart pops up. He gasps. "There's a heart! Instagram knows I love you!"

"Awwwww," Phichit says, throwing himself on top of Yuuri, "I love you too!"

"Phichit," Yuuri says, looking down at him very seriously, "do you really think we would be a pretty couple?"

"The _prettiest_," Phichit says in a voice just as solemn.

"Phichit, do you think we should kiss?"

Phichit's eyes go wide. "_That is the best idea I have ever heard_."

* * *

"Phichit," Yuuri asks the next morning, blinking against the far-too-bright sunlight, "did we make out last night?"

"Ggngh," Phichit replies eloquently. "Yeah. Maybe."

Yuuri thinks about that for a moment. "Should we never do that again?"

"Yuuri," Phichit says, lifting his head, "you are a beautiful man and I love you, but we should absolutely never do that again."

Yuuri nods. "Sounds good," he says, and then he buries his head in his pillow and hopes his hangover goes away before it kills him.


End file.
